Dare I whisper the word, “Spring”?  Robins have converged in our yard en mass, gorging on last year’s apples still dangling in the tree like a poor man’s ornaments; wizened and rust colored.  The lawn is patchwork of dirty snow with islands of brown grass that, with another mild day or two, will become the dominate feature. Wisps of snow will become nothing more than a memory of another winter past. There are sprouts of bright green peeping up in the flower bed: tulips, crocus, and iris. I should be worried that it is too soon for them, do something to encourage them to duck back into the warm bed of earth that they share with worms and moles. But in fact, I am not concerned, though it is still early February in the northerly zones of the northern hemisphere. February 10, in Bend, Oregon is the heart of winter, is it not? 

 

After nearly a week of warming weather I finally conceded to letting the fire go out in mid afternoon, trusting the late day sun on the west facing windows to keep us warm until bed time. Yesterday the combination of the fire and solar radiation stifled the house and we had to open a window when we went to bed because it was still stuffy.  I walked up the Butte and wished I’d worn shorts and a t-shirt. Though it was only in the fifties there wasn’t much wind and I longed to be less encumbered by turtle-necks and fleece.

 

Buds on the aspen trees are still holding themselves tightly whorled but they are hugely plump with preparations to burst forth into smooth, bright, leaves. More than all these signs, however, is the outward surge of my soul-energy toward physicality and action. Today I nearly flew up the Butte and never felt tired or winded. I wanted to soar with the Western Bluebirds that are shedding their drab winter coats and donning their breeding plumage of deepest blue with sunny red breasts. Sure, I know there are days to come that will be filled with snow and wind and densely clouded skies. However, my intuition tells me that today is the first day of Spring for this land in Central Oregon and at least this woman who is living here. I realize it is nearly a week gone past since New Spring on February 4 but today, for me, I felt that little shift somewhere in my heart and soul that triggered in me the awakening.

 

Dare I whisper the word, “Spring”?  No, I will shout it out, “Spring is born, Spring is here, rejoice in the warming earth, the abundance of energy and activity, the fruits and vegetables, that are all just around the corner of the seasons.”